Granted I can’t see the shards that pierce your heart ; But I can feel the pain.
Don’t sit there all alone on the island of your sorrow ; Hold my hand.
I promise I won’t ask anything – the pregnant silence has a story to tell.
Let’s just sit here together and care and share.

Monday, February 28, 2011

Ten days of vacation and I have been made as redundant as the sofa I am sitting on. Except for the mandatory signing of vouchers and reconciling the bank statements, I am not needed. When I left I was the fulcrum. Today I am sitting on the periphery, a mute spectator. But I must confess that I am watching not without pride. Two months back these very boys were hesitant, stammering and stumbling. Now they walk with confident steps, smug in their ability.

Everything around is moving with slick precision. The meter reading from the cellar has been taken. The dine -in is spick. The cutlery is clean. The pasta is ready. The soup is boiled and ready to be served. The ovens have been switched on. The inventory has been checked. The monthly report is being prepared. Not much variance. No wastages. Losses within limits. The auditor has given them 96%.

One small glitch. I am delighted. I notice that both the ACs in the dine-in are on. With a knowing air, I tell Sandeep that we don’t switch on both the ACs at 10am. Politely, he informs me that they will run it for some time till the room is cool and then switch off one of them. My ego has been pricked. I sit down. They have built a wall around them with their skill and dedication which I would be unable to pierce and find my way back to the old days. Nothing much to do I simply observe.The ice delivery boy comes. As usual he is carrying the ice in the right hand and with the left hand he is playing on the window as he walks leaving a sweaty trail. The shift –in- charge shouts. I smirk. This is routine. The kid doesn’t change. He has seventeen rupees and seventy five paise change, the balance of his bill. Sandeep groans. He has to be paid every day and he brings the same amount every day. We requested him many times to take the money weekly or fortnightly. But no.Reitesh is as usual late. I know the precise moment when his hand would caress his hair. At the door he would wait momentarily, cough and then open. After the second window, his hand goes up. I smile once again.

No one is aware of my birthday. i have guarded it well. I feel proud like a virgin bride. As one grows , birthdays become more of an embarrassment.

With nothing much to do, I think of our date tonight.

Just then the mobile rings. It’s a new number. “ Happy birthday, writer.” I jump with a start. Its weirdo I am sure.

“ Hi there.” I pretend nonchalance.

“ Don’t pretend. I can see you jump.” I am sitting near the window and there is just the greenery. “ I am watching you.” She giggles. Is she weird. She is watching through a pair of binoculars from one of the apartments of Premier green woods!!!

I am fazed. So to change the subject , I ask, “ what time are we meeting.”

“ we are not. Birthdays are meant to be celebrated with near and dear ones.”

I tell her we are a long distance family. Our love oozes out when we are far. When we are in the same house, we sit in different rooms and chat on gtalk. Our family never meets in the living room. It’s the facebook. And we don’t laugh. We lol.

She has an easy laugh.

“And I thought I am weird.” Ok so are we meeting?

She signs off saying she will give it a think. My bet is she wont come.

I am sure I will be left with my bottle of Chivas Regal, which my partners had thoughtfully packed when I was leaving. And I am not complaining. We both make a great pair. I mean Chivas Regal and me.

I couldn’t agree more with her. “Birthdays are meant to be celebrated with some one you love.”